


Nu Kyr'adyc, Shi Taab'echaaj'la

by TooBusyWriting



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Armor Painting, Brotherly Affection, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Clonetober, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e05 Rookies, Episode: s03e02 Arc Troopers, Fives and Echo are twins, Gen, Ghosts, Haunting, Hugs, Mando'a Language (Star Wars), No beta we die like the Kaminoans should, Post-Episode: s03e18 The Citadel, Post-Episode: s06e04 Orders, Umbara Arc (Star Wars: Clone Wars), for real this time not just bickering!, i Knew i forgot a tag, so many hugs omg, uhh for all of them oop, wow did I ever expect to use those two tags? the first but not really the second
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26961682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooBusyWriting/pseuds/TooBusyWriting
Summary: Hevy appears beside them before the base finishes exploding.Cutup punches the gunner in a move that probably hurts his knuckles more than Hevy’s plastoid-covered shoulder before tackling him in a hug. “You self-sacrificing di’kut!”Droidbait quickly joins the hug. He really doesn’t want to let his batchers out of his sight again. Even if that now means watching over the twins and keeping Hevy and Cutup by him and not what he had originally thought. Kriff, that’s the second time the plan had to be adjusted and doesn’t that just hurt.His brother squeezes them tight. “I did what I had to,” he says, voice muffled from where he’s buried his head in Cutup’s shoulder.“We know, Hevy. We understand.”-"Not gone, merely marching far away." But what if that marching on was actually...relatively close?
Relationships: CT-00-2010 | Droidbait & CT-21-0408 | Echo, CT-00-2010 | Droidbait & CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555, CT-21-0408 | Echo & CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555, CT-21-0408 | Echo & CT-782 | Hevy, CT-4040 | Cutup & CT-00-2010 | Droidbait, CT-4040 | Cutup & CT-21-0408 | Echo, CT-4040 | Cutup & CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555, CT-782 | Hevy & CT-00-2010 | Droidbait, CT-782 | Hevy & CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555, CT-782 | Hevy & CT-4040 | Cutup
Comments: 22
Kudos: 87





	Nu Kyr'adyc, Shi Taab'echaaj'la

**Author's Note:**

> *rushes to post this before the month is up* Happy Halloween! This is my contribution to Clonetober! I used the prompts Fives, Cutup, Droidbait, tears, and haunt (because apparently I love writing Force Ghosts lol). Title is Mando'a for "Not gone, merely marching far away." Hehehehe have fun

Droidbait is the first of Domino to die. One second, agonizing pain wracks through his torso, the next, his vision goes dark. He blinks and here he is, standing above his own body, Nub, CT-327, and Sergeant O’Niner surrounding him.

He blinks again. “Uh...what?”

The Sergeant gives a half-hearted smile. “We’re marching on. Apparently, that includes watching over our brothers.”

“I, uh...huh.” Droidbait has only heard that term a few times in passing, but he knows enough to gather what his CO means. It’s probably a lot more popular of a term out on the frontlines, even with how early into this war they were. 

“So, are we going to follow them, or are we just going to watch the droids take the base?” Nub asks, spurring them into motion. Said droids — the same droids that killed him and Nub, he realizes with a start — are chasing the survivors out of the base and taking it over.

They trail behind his batchmates, somehow able to pass through the closed grate, however odd it felt. Down and down and down they crawl, the tunnels never seeming to end. They crawl for what feels like hours but is probably only ten minutes until the light starts to get more grey and less black. Hevy kicks open the other grate and they jump out one by one. 

“What do we do without the Sarge?” Fives asks as they start down the path.

“The reg manual says the next—”

“Wait, wait!” Hevy interrupts Echo, holding a hand up and halting. “Did you hear that?” 

The four turn consecutively and Droidbait snorts at the irony of how it looks like a domino effect. Straining his ears, he listens for what Hevy pointed out. A faint hissing makes itself known from somewhere close, but he can’t pin it.

“It doesn’t sound like droids,” Cutup adds. 

They’re scanning the rock in front of them. The droids  _ had _ landed somewhere close, hadn’t they? Could they possibly have reinforcements waiting outside for them? Droidbait didn’t know. He never made it to the front lines and the thirty seconds before what just happened surely didn’t count.

The heavy gunner raises a hand. “Don’t forget about those giant eels.” Ah, yes, the eels Echo talked about whenever someone suggested they try to sneak outside.

Fives tilts his helmet in a way Droidbait knows he’s likely rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve…” Something moves over his head and he tunes out his brother, glancing up. 

It’s an eel. And it’s headed right for Cutup. 

It snatches him off the ground, screams ringing through the air as it bites down on him. “Cutup!” Droidbait finds himself shouting in unison with his batchmates.

Someone starts shooting and he squeezes his eyes shut, hoping he doesn’t have to see his closest brother ripped in half. The blaster fire resonates in his ears over the screaming and his head swims. So much is happening, has already happened today, and they’re not even in an official battle. He fights to focus again, clenching his fists. When he’s able to open his eyes, Nub’s hand is on his shoulder and the eel is gone. His ears ring for a few more moments.

“Ugh, poor Cutup,” he catches once they decide to work again. 

That’s it? That’s all they’re going to do? Say only that and move on? A sob chokes the back of his throat. He gets that they had to move on — sithspit, they didn’t even get to do anything about him, as far as he’d seen — but it feels so unfair. Maybe it was a good thing he never made it to the front lines if this is what it entails. 

Nub gives him a little nudge and he manages to shuffle along as they follow the remaining three. Cutup hasn’t appeared next to them, so he must still be alive. In agonizing pain, trapped between an eel’s jaw and— 

He needs to think about something else. 

Glancing ahead, Echo is tapping around on his vambrace. When had they stopped again? After a minute or so, he stops. “It’s no good, their comlinks are on a different scramble set."

Their…? Right, the inspection team. He wants to hope that means these three get off this blasted rock safely, but just fifteen minutes ago he thought Cutup would’ve been included in that, too.

“I’ll signal them with this flare,” Hevy states, holding it up. Droidbait does a double-take. Where had that come from? Granted, it was Hevy, but Droidbait has no clue as to when he could’ve picked up when they were escaping. Which meant the heavy gunner already had it on him, while watching the scope earlier. He sighs, which draws a laugh out of 327, for some reason. 

Hevy lights it up and they hold their breaths. He positioned it well, Commander Cody should be able to see it clearly. Within seconds, more blaster fire sounds out from above. He looks up: the landing platform is almost directly above them. An explosion rocks the ground for a second and debris falls, missing the group by mere meters. As soon as it stops, the final three Dominos pick their way around it. This time, he finds his feet moving on their own. 

Two clones stand across from them, in orange and blue armor. Commander Cody and Captain Rex, guns raised and pointed at them. 

“Hands above your heads.” His brothers’ hands shoot into the air promptly. “Take your sunbonnets off. Take them off. Now!” While Droidbait questions the Captain’s word choice (sunbonnets? really?), his brothers comply. 

The second they come off, the ground shakes. Another eel emerges from the rock near them, a growl escaping it that makes his hair stand on end. Captain Rex fires off a shot faster than anyone in Domino has ever seen, hitting it in the eye. With one last growl, the eel falls to the ground, life seeping out of it. Everyone braces themselves as the impact shakes their footing once more.

Wandering over to the eel, Captain Rex kneels by the eye he hit and takes off his helmet. Droidbait blinks when he sees blond hair. He’d known about the Captain, yes, but that wasn’t a detail that made its way through Kamino-centric gossip (and for good reason).

“Nice shot,” Hevy compliments. The shock and amazement on his brothers’ faces are amusing, but he has a feeling his face looks the same. Even the Sergeant looks impressed.

“The name’s Rex,” the Captain responds, reaching out and touching the eel’s blood. Ew. “But you’ll call me ‘Captain’ or ‘sir.’”

“Sir, yes, sir!” his batchmates call out, standing at attention as Captain Rex stands. When Sergeant O’Niner snorts, Droidbait registers that he, Nub, and 327 all straightened to attention as well, even unseen as they were.

“I’m Commander Cody, your new boss,” the other man introduces himself, taking off his helmet. 

Fives talks first. “My designation is trooper two-seven dash five-five-five-five, sir.”

“Wow, did Mr. ‘The-Name-is- _ Fives _ ’ just say his whole CT number out loud?”

Droidbait spins, nearly knocking himself over in his haste. Cutup now stands to his left, helmet off, a semblance of a smile on his face. Faintly, Droidbait realizes he has no idea where anyone’s helmets have gone in death, his own included. Rather, an overwhelming rush of emotion hits him, making him pause for a second before acting. He’s here! Which means he’s not in pain anymore, but means he died, too. The other three couldn’t go back for him later.

“Bait?”

Flinging himself forward, he wraps his brother in a hug. Arms immediately wrap around his own torso. Plastoid armor makes it clunkier than he’d like, but it still soothes him. The two stand there, reveling in the comforting touch. Ignoring whatever their batchers are talking about, they hold onto each other like a lifeline they technically no longer need. Did that make it a deathline, then? Did that even make sense? Either way, Droidbait never wanted to let his batchers out of sight again. The Sergeant said something earlier… ‘marching on includes watching over our brothers’ or something like that. Yeah, he’ll do that, with both Cutup and his living batchmates.

Cutup and Droidbait stay standing there until Nub taps them on the shoulder and alerts them to the others moving out. They’re going to try and retake the base from the droids, and the Sergeant wants to know if they want to follow behind. Nodding their heads, they set off to observe and support them.

They watch the living troopers take back the base through an odd plan courtesy of the Captain. They watch as Fives gets hit by a blaster bolt in the arm. They watch as a Separatist fleet lands on the moon. They watch as Hevy excitedly picks up a rotary cannon once more. They watch as the handset doesn’t link up with the detonator. They follow after the group while Hevy stays behind to fix it before leaving himself. They rush back up to the base when Hevy doesn’t follow, not caring if the Sergeant and the other two are behind them or not. 

Hevy appears beside them before the base finishes exploding.

Cutup punches the gunner in a move that probably hurts his knuckles more than Hevy’s plastoid-covered shoulder before tackling him in a hug. “You self-sacrificing di’kut1!” 

Droidbait quickly joins the hug. He really doesn’t want to let his batchers out of his sight again. Even if that now means watching over the twins and keeping Hevy and Cutup by him and not what he had originally thought. Kriff, that’s the second time the plan had to be adjusted and doesn’t that just hurt.

His brother squeezes them tight. “I did what I had to,” he says, voice muffled from where he’s buried his head in Cutup’s shoulder.

“We know, Hevy. We understand.”

“Love you, vod2. Please don’t do that again.” 

Hevy responds by pulling them impossibly closer into the hug. They cling to each other, reflecting on what happened and avoiding those thoughts all the same. And if they all break down crying once the adrenaline wears off, well, that’s not really anyone else’s business.

* * *

Following the explosion, Domino decides to follow their two remaining batchmates around, who had gotten themselves inducted into the 501st Legion. It was, after all, the logical next step. Sergeant O’Niner, Nub, and 327 all leave, having their own living batchmates to look after. 

Fives and Echo get to paint their armor shortly after arriving on the cruiser. “You’re definitely not shinies anymore,” Captain Rex reiterates, handing them the buckets and paintbrushes. They thank him and take their supplies to a quiet corner in the barracks near the bunks they were assigned. 

They take off their armor and set it on the ground, sitting beside it, Echo to Fives’ right like always. Echo’s looks more organized than Fives’, but Cutup knew Fives likely had a better understanding of where he set which piece. The paint sits in front and between the two of them, lid now on the ground and paintbrushes at the ready. There’s a minuscule portion of red paint on the lid one of them must’ve managed to steal from the medics, along with some grey, black, and, surprisingly, white. Where they got that, he has no clue.

“Any bets on what they’re gonna do?” Cutup asks.

“I have no idea,” Droidbait responds.

The twins stare at the armor for a few moments before looking at each other. “Any ideas?” Fives asks Echo.

He tilts his head to the side. “A few. It’s, uh, easier to think about armor designs than anything else right now.”

Fives nods and rests his hand on Echo’s knee. They sit in silence for a few more moments. “Alright, well, I have this idea, but I’m going to need your help executing it.”

They start with the standard 501st stripes down the arms and cuisses, chatting softly to one another. Except, not quite. Fives leaves white stripes in the paint of his left cuisse: three grouped on top and two closer to his knee.

Hevy narrows his eyes at the armor, abruptly jolting, almost falling off the bunk he sat on. 

“You good?” Droidbait asks.

He blinks a few times. “I think the stripes are for us.”

“What?”

“Look at it again.”

Cutup does. Three… and two. Five stripes, five Dominos. Droidbait, himself, Hevy; Fives and Echo.  _ Oh. Fives.  _ His eyes sting and he blinks to clear it. 

The blinking works and he continues to watch as they continue to paint more of their armor. They take turns putting a handprint on Echo’s chest plate to match the mark Captain Rex had left. Then, they paint the indented cheeks of the helmets blue to match each other. After that comes the top of the helmets. Echo paints two matching stripes on either side of the fin and then the fin itself. Fives watches as he does this. Once done, Echo pulls out a utensil of some sort and scoots closer. They bend over the helmet together, working on an outline. Handing the helmet back, Fives goes to begin painting while Echo produces a piece of flimsi and begins to sketch. 

Most of whatever they designed is blue, starting at the front of the helmet and framing the fin all the way back. Finally, the red is used, forming two small dots and something that, at first glance, he thinks is a triangle. The little point on the short side proves otherwise. 

Fives sets the helmet down to dry after that. Cutup’s breath catches in his throat when he sees the full pattern for the first time. It’s a Rishi eel. Not only did he do the stripes, but Fives also painted a clear reminder of what happened to Cutup. Everyone can see it this way. He and Echo are likely to be the only living people who recognize the full significance of it, but that’s something he wants everyone to see and himself to see as a tribute and reminder.

He doesn’t bother trying to blink back the tears this time.

Droidbait shuffles over and sits by him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “Bait—” he starts, leaning into his brother’s side.

“Shh. It’s okay, I get it.” He looks close to tears himself.

Meanwhile, Fives and Echo begin to take whatever Echo sketched out and paint it onto their armor. They place it in different spots: Echo on his left cuisse, close to where Fives had painted the three stripes on his, Fives on his right pauldron. This uses up the black, grey, and white, but none of the red. Some of the blue is even mixed together with the white to make a lighter blue they use to frame something.

They set down the pieces to dry, and suddenly, Hevy has tears starting to fall. The armor has a rotary cannon, Hevy’s specialty weapon, framed in a circle. Underneath the circle is a small box, painted white over the blue. In Aurebesh within the box reads, “For Hevy.”

Droidbait stands up and drags Hevy over to where Cutup sits, hugging both of them. They accept it gladly, watching as the twins start painting on the armor connected to the back of their gloves. Hmm, from what they had seen around the ship so far, most brothers didn’t paint that part, and if they did, it was an extension of the stripes. 

Instead, they paint a series of circles inside each other. There’s only one thing it could be: a target. Droidbait starts crying, too, and the three of them hold tight to each other as they watch their living brothers finish up and start packing up the supplies. 

“Do you think they’d like what we did?” Fives asks, low enough Cutup has to focus to make out the words.

“I think so. They deserve to be remembered. They deserve to be painting their own armor right now,” Echo responds, choking up near the end. Fives pulls him into a hug. They cling to each other for a few moments, not unlike the rest of the squad was doing, before pulling away and standing up to clean off the brushes and give the can back.

If only they could see them now.

* * *

Coming back to Kamino alive would’ve been interesting. Coming back while dead is straight-up strange. Everything and nothing has changed since they last wandered these blinding white halls. Cadets go about as normal, yet Domino Squad has been irrevocably changed. What are you supposed to think when you watch your two living batchmates wander an area that must remind themselves of you everywhere they look?

Then the battle starts. Droidbait has found that he’s picked up on the Mando’a spoken by the infantry troopers just as fast as Fives and Echo in their time in the 501st. It’s a nice thing, being able to understand their brothers more than just the handful of words that get spread through Kamino. Unfortunately, that makes the battle harder to watch, curses and shouts and pleas being thrown around and yelled as soldiers die and watch their friends die. 

Echo and Fives perform wonderfully, as always. From being personally requested to snipe by Commander Havoc to helping 99 to protecting the cadets and even getting the cadets a little battle experience of their own. Cutup fails at holding back a laugh when Fives gives his little inspirational speech, Droidbait almost following suit. Not because it was bad, or anything, but because his vod seemed to be unconsciously crouching to get closer in height with the verd’ikase3. 

Then… then 99 died. He had, miraculously, appeared right next to them. Hevy still has his arms around him, talking his ears off. Cutup and Droidbait somehow managed to get a hug from him, too, even without Hevy letting go. Now, they watch as the twins chat out near one of the landing pads, helmets off somewhere and the sun shining for once.

Echo, gesticulating with both arms, recites a story from the squad’s cadet days Cutup’s not sure he’s not just making up as he goes. Fives — equally amused and skeptical, if the set of his eyebrows says anything — stands there with his arms crossed. 

“That doesn’t sound like  _ anything  _ cadet-you would’ve done,” he comments.

Echo scowls slightly. “Yeah, because I never had any sort of fun with you guys while we were here.” He sets his right hand on his hip, an indignant set to his brow.

“I’m just saying, even if you did it, you probably did a lot more complaining than you’re telling me,” Fives responds, lifting his hand off his arm momentarily. 

“I didn’t complain that much!”

“All you did was complain about us not following the rules!”

“That’s...only mostly true.”

Hevy snorts. When Droidbait turns and looks at him, he shrugs his shoulders. “The story’s true, but Fives is right about him complaining more than he’s saying. I was there, I’d know.” 99 nods in agreement.

“Echo, Fives,” Commander Cody says as he and Captain Rex approach the duo, who fall into attention at his words. Droidbait perks up at his voice and turns back to face them completely. What could the Commander have for them next? “You both really stepped up in the heat of battle.”

“We did what we had to do, sir—” 

“ —what any clone would’ve done,” Echo, then Fives, says, completing the sentence like it’s no big deal, just like Domino Squad got used to them doing. It was odd to others outside their batch how often the duo seemed to be on the same wavelengths, but they’d been doing it for so long, Droidbait almost stopped noticing when it happened.

Captain Rex steps forward and moves in front of them. “Both of you showed valor out there, real courage. Remind me of me, actually.” At that, Cutup chuckles a little. Droidbait rolls his eyes.

Commander Cody looks at them, a twinkle in his eye. “Echo, Fives, you’re both officially being made ARC troopers.”

Dead-Domino Squad cheers loudly and proudly as the twins look at each other in shock. Everyone on this section of the platform, dead and alive, sports a grin at the words. 

“I don’t think the Separatists will be coming back here anytime soon,” Rex states, drawing the attention back to him. “But if they do, Kamino will be lucky to have clones like you defending it. Good job, men.”

The officers salute, Fives and Echo doing their own only seconds later. 

Droidbait finds himself standing on the platform with Hevy, Cutup, and 99 long after the officers and their batchers have walked off. They’re celebrating, outwardly excited in a way the twins won’t be able to until they’re in their barracks later. He’s smiling so wide still, his cheeks are starting to hurt. He can’t find it in himself to care. 

“They did it! They’re going to be ARCs!” Cutup exclaims again, laughing. “Holy kriff, they really did it! I’m so karking proud of them right now!”

“I knew they could,” 99 says softly. “All of you have that potential. I’ve known since you were the littlest of cadets.” 

Hevy hugs him tighter and Droidbait gives him another one while Cutup’s grin grows impossibly wider. 

They chat and celebrate for a few more moments, sharing memories and telling 99 of the good times before the disaster on Rishi before Cutup stops halfway through a rambling story he had of some cadet-aged shenanigans Force knew how long ago. His eyes widen.

“Guys, I just realized something!”

“Wow, you can think?”   
  


Cutup punches Hevy in the arm— carefully enough to avoid 99, but hard enough to at least try and make it hurt — and continues. “If we’re already on Kamino, then the 501st is kinda leavin’ them here when they ship out again. And they’ll be here for the next few months, too.”

“Oh.” Droidbait finds himself saying in unison with Hevy. " _ Oh _ ," again, with grins splitting across their faces. They have months to figure out how to haunt Bric. This will be fun.

* * *

Fives has been sitting in the corner of the closest empty room to the hanger since he got off the ship, feet planted on the ground, elbows resting on his knees and hands clasping the back of his head, a vacant stare focused on the ground. The only bit of armor he’s taken off is his helmet, which slipped from his fingers without him noticing, now lying by the door. He hasn't talked in hours and, quite frankly, Cutup is starting to get worried, even if the rest of Domino has been almost as quiet for just as long. 

The three dead brothers have situated themselves around him, a protective barrier no one can see. If only they could actually do something for him, anything: talk to him, hug him, just be seen by him.

But they can’t. 

It’s quite literally impossible.

In lieu of getting to touch Fives, Cutup found himself wrapped in Droidbait’s arms again. Hevy had paced the room, fuming, until about 2 minutes ago, when he slumped against the wall adjacent to Fives, resting his head against the cool surface, staring at the ceiling. The world feels muffled and Cutup can hardly imagine what Fives is experiencing right now.

He wonders how much longer before one of the 501st comes looking for Fives. He hasn't debriefed yet, nor shown up to the barracks. Someone should have noticed by now.

Maybe they're giving him space. But Cutup doesn't think his vod needs space right now; he needs someone to hold onto him and let him, _ help him _ , grieve.

He still can't believe what happened. Another death, that's one thing, especially when they'd expected him to appear right away like Hevy did. But he didn't, so they thought it might take a bit longer like Cutup did. And yet, as much agony dying slowly put him through, he'd rather it have been that than what seems to have happened. 

He hasn't appeared. 

It's been hours. Too many hours. He's still alive. Fives has no way of knowing. They have no way of telling. And Cutup can't help but feel like this might be a fate worse than death because nobody will know to go back. Nobody will be able to save him from whatever the Separatists plan to do. So instead of dying slowly over minutes, hours, days, he'll be slowly dying over years. 

He just wishes Fives would move, show that he's still alive, too, right now. He hasn't moved for at least 10 minutes and his legs are bound to be numb by now. Not that he probably notices.

Why hasn't anyone found him yet?

Droidbait shudders and presses closer into his side. Hevy is now staring at his fingers as he flexes and unflexes them. Fives still won't move. They don't know what to do. 

_ Force _ , they're going to have to tell 99 what happened. Their ori'vod4 hadn't gone with them. He's been alternating his time between Kamino, the 501st, and another group of brothers he apparently watched over when they were cadets. Not just what happened, but the aftermath, too, because he will undoubtedly want to hear about how Fives is doing. He always does, but even more so once he finds out. 

The door finally slides open. There stands Captain Rex, the top half of his armor off, a few things in his hands. He steps into the room and walks over to Fives, somehow avoiding them even though they're in the way and not visible. 

Fives doesn't look up, doesn't acknowledge he notices the Captain in any way. He very well might not, after all.

With the lack of response, Rex crouches down, gets himself to Fives' eye level. "Hey, vod'ika5," he murmurs. 

Fives glances up and Cutup lets out a small breath of relief. Pain has seeped into his gaze, no longer vacant. Seeing it twists the knife in Cutup’s chest further in, the small amount of relief gone. He has to steel himself for the conversation about to happen; it’s going to hurt.

“Can you talk?” 

_ Don’t know. Don’t want to. _ Fives signs choppily, left hand still clutching at his hair. That’s good, that’s a response of some sort. That’s still good, right?  _ Force. _

“Okay, we can work with that. I’m going to sit next to you, is that okay?” Fives nods, a harsh, quick jerk of his head. Rex does so, setting himself to Fives’ left. (Not the right, nobody else got to be to his right.) He sets the things he brought with him to the side.

Suddenly, Fives’ breath speeds up and he starts tugging on his left vambrace, clawing at the plastoid, trying to get it off. He looks so  _ fragile _ , all Cutup wants to do is curl up and cry with him. 

Rex grabs his hand, stopping the movement. He takes the hand off the armor and keeps it in his grasp. “I’ve got it. I’ve got you, vod’ika.” 

Fives breath hitches, not quite a sob, not yet. He signs a small  _ thank you, _ holds out his left arm, and lets the Captain carefully take off the plastoid and stack it to the side. He buries his head in his right arm, having had to let go to let the armor come off. 

Working quickly and only speaking to tell Fives what he’s doing next, Rex takes off the top half of Fives’ armor. Everything from pauldrons to the gloves comes off, leaving the duo only in their blacks, leg armor, and kamas. He reaches back over to the things he brought with and picks up a square. Unfurling it, Cutup realizes that it’s a blanket from the barracks. He drapes it over Fives’ back, tucking him into his side with his arms around him, getting to do exactly what Cutup wants to do.

Hevy — wait a tick, when did he move — throws his arms around him and Droidbait. He knows what the heavy gunner is thinking, what they’re all thinking. If they can’t comfort Fives or tell him what they know, at least he has Rex.

Then, the tears start. 

Not just from the ARC, though mostly from him. No, all of Domino Squad breaks down. The situation is hopeless, from either group’s point of view. It’s been building for hours now, but seeing Fives break is the tipping point. They’d been a lifeline for each other, motivating and pushing and being there for each other every step of the way. From decantation through forever. Now that’s gone, torn away by a kriffing extraction mission. 

The twins may have spent less time with the 501st recently because of their ARC missions, but Cutup can’t help but be glad that that is where they got their start, who they teamed up with for this last mission. Right now is hard enough. He can’t imagine how much more it would tear at them if they weren’t on the Resolute, weren’t near other brothers Fives knew well.

He just hopes they give Fives more time than normal before his next mission, let him stay surrounded by these brothers he needs by him. Based on how Cutup feels himself, and that’s nothing compared to the ARC right now, he’ll need all the time they give him and more.

Fives buries his head in his brother’s shoulder, clinging to him. “He’s gone. He-he can’t. He can’t be. Rex- I— ” He finally speaks for the first time since the mission, voice cracking, breaking off into more sobs. The Captain holds him tighter, rubbing soothing circles on his back, eyes shining himself. 

Why can’t there be a way for them to tell them? 

Di’kutla, shabla kyr’am6. 

* * *

Fives is starting to understand why General Skywalker hates sand solely from the number of times he’s been on Tatooine. Umbara is quickly becoming that for him, this dark planet full of creatures and plants killing his brothers. Felucia was bad — this is  _ worse.  _ At least on Felucia, they had Jedi who cared about how many men were dying.  ~~ At least on Felucia, Echo was alive and by his side. ~~

At least they had a general who led from the front, then, not hiding in the back. At least they had a general who didn’t seem to be going out of his way to create tactics to create the most casualties. At least they had a general who, while reckless, they could trust.

Yet said general had been called away  _ again _ by the Chancellor (why did the Chancellor always need him at the worst times?) and they were stuck with  _ this  _ hut’uun7.

They have barely had any battles under him and Fives will count it too soon if he never has to again after this campaign. What a karking disaster.

Blasterfire and crawler tanks and rocket launchers and the HUD having to adjust how dark this planet is and brothers dying left, right and center. Rex wouldn’t listen to him and the General  _ has _ to hate clones with how he’s insisting they continue even after all of this. The medics are all stressing and overwhelmed by injuries, Kix especially. It doesn’t help that these giant plants seem to be more in the way than proper cover against these tanks.

Felucia was ten times easier than this campaign and they’re still early into it.

He stands his ground, shooting at the tanks with both pistols. Maybe, just maybe, if he's lucky enough, his ARC training will shine through and reward him with a crippling hit to one of them. Not that that has happened yet.

Someone shoves him to the ground seconds before blasterfire flies from an angle he didn’t expect. Right where his head was. He hadn’t noticed anyone or anything over there.  _ Do karking better, trooper. You know better. Especially for the middle of a battle. _

“Thanks, vod,” he says to whoever pushed him. He picks himself up quickly. 

But there’s nobody near him. Nobody close enough to have shoved him, and it definitely wasn’t the joke of a Jedi that was still hiding in the back of the troops. What the _ kriff.  _

He can’t stand and contemplate, though. One oddity hasn’t changed the fact that he’s in an active war zone. Blasterfire continues to be aimed at him and he needs to return it. 

Following through with that line of thought, Fives turns back to the battle and files the moment away for later. Later, when, you know, he wasn’t actively trying to not die. 

True to his thoughts, Fives finds himself reflecting on the moment as they settle into the airbase. 

“You good, Fives?” Hardcase asks as they finish gathering tools to decrypt the hardware on the Umbaran fighters.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” Whatever face he must be making doesn’t convince him and his brother raises an eyebrow. “I’m doing better than Kix?” he offers.

Hardcase scoffs. “That’s really not that hard post-battle. What’s on your mind?”

He shrugs. “Oh, it’s nothing really. Just… do you ever feel like you’ve got some brothers who are marching on that are watching over you, even during battles?”   
  


A sorrowful half-smile makes its way across Case’s face. Fives wonders who he’s remembering, if it’s a batchmate or close friend or even a recent squadmate. “Especially during battles.” 

He shares his own smile. “It’s just one of those moments, that’s all.” No need to elaborate.

“Ah, gotcha.”

Someone calls for Hardcase in the distance. Fives gestures toward where it came from. “Sounds like someone needs you. Better leave, might be that excuse for a general. I’ve got the rest of this.”

The heavy gunner takes a step away, then turns back around. “You’re absolutely sure?”

“I’m sure, Hardcase. I’ll be fine. Hopefully, I’ll be done decrypting it by the time you come back around.” 

With a nod, he puts on his bucket and leaves. Fives takes in the tools and the fighter. He could think over things on his own as he works on it. Provided the decryption doesn’t require his full attention. Nothing like a little mechanics to help, right?

Fives doesn’t get the chance to think about the odd shove until after the campaign. By then, it’s the least of his worries and things occupying his mind. Karking Umbara and Krell.

* * *

Fives is smothered in hugs before he can register what just happened. He had been lying on the ground, in the most pain he has ever felt, Rex pleading with him, mind clouding even worse than whatever that kriffing kaminii8 did to him. Now, three sets of arms squeeze him, chattering reaching his ears but not registering. He grunts.

"Oh, kriff, he needs to breathe.”

Immediately, the arms loosen but don't back off. He shakes his head, taking in his surroundings. It's his batchmates that are hugging him. "Hevy?"

His vod nods, half a smile on his face. Droidbait and Cutup share their own when he looks at them, too. Hevy, Droidbait, Cutup. They were dead, so he must be, too. Finally marching on after all these years as the last Domino. The realization is half a relief, half a distress. Is Rex going to listen to him? Who’s going to do anything about the chips?

“You sure are hard to keep alive, did you know that?”

“Huh?”

“That one dark planet… I can’t recall the name right now—” for the better, Fives can’t but help think at the mention of it— “but we saved your life then! Well,  _ I  _ did that time. Anyway, we did a few times.”

He remembers a push in the midst of tanks and blaster bolts and no brother being there. His eyes widen. “That was you?”

“Sure was!” Hevy exclaims. “And Ninety-nine, he helped a bit. Oh, he’s going to be happy to be able to hug you and talk to you again. Mostly, uh, because of the whole, you know. That’s not the point I was making. We saw the bolt while you were distracted and pushed you. Other times, it was placing your helmet by you, startling some animals to create a distraction for the enemy, kicking abandoned blasters near you, stuff like that. For some reason, we could only touch stuff when it directly related to your survival. Isn’t that odd? We tried for years but it didn’t change.”

Cutup shoves the heavy gunner’s shoulder. “Force, vod, let the man think.”

“Right, right, sorry.”

Fives finds himself blinking at his brothers, sludging through the last dredges of fog clinging to his mind. “Ninety-nine?”

“Yeah!” Droidbait responds enthusiastically. “He’s not here right now; he’s watching over the cadets on Kamino. So actually, he saw you kind of recently, he just stayed while we followed you to Coruscant.”

He startles as he realizes they aren’t in the warehouse or anywhere on Coruscant. Rather, they’re in some sort of void that looks like the inside of a star destroyer if he focuses. What.

Despite the revelation, breathing is coming easier. Thinking doesn’t hurt as much. He scans his eyes over his batchmates. Droidbait, always the hugger out of them, still presses closest to his left side. Cutup’s to Droidbait’s left, where he has backed off a bit but keeps his hands on Fives’ pauldrons. Hevy’s on his right, one arm looping around the back of his shoulders, the other around Cutup’s back. 

But wait, where was...? His brow furrows.

Hevy catches his eye. "Something wrong, vod?" A pause. "Besides the obvious?"

He takes a breath and gulps. "Where's Echo?” 

They don’t answer, glancing at each other. His stomach drops.  _ No.  _ He knows what they’re going to say before they say it. 

“Fives,” Droidbait says gently, “Echo hasn’t died yet.”

His knees buckle without his permission and Droidbait tightens his arms further, keeping him up.

He left him behind. They had promised each other they wouldn’t leave each other, desperate to cling to their last remaining batchmate. He had thought Echo had broken the promise by dying, but it was really him who broke it. He wasn’t the one left behind like he had thought after the Citadel. No, it was the other way around. He left Echo behind. His fellow ARC, best friend,  _ twin.  _

His hands shake as he reaches up and rests his head in his hands. Dampness hits his palms and he realizes he’s crying. It’s hard to breathe again. Someone rubs circles on his back, the familiar but long-missing-finally-returned feeling of the other three still around him. 

His head spins, the fog that was finally leaving stubbornly staying. He hunches forward, glad to be sitting already.

When did he sit down?

“We’ve got you Fives.” He can only tell who whispers it because of Cutup’s accent. It comes from the same direction as the hands resting on his shins. They must’ve not changed spots, only sat down. 

“I  _ left him _ .” 

It’s all he can say, his throat refusing to form anything other than sobs. He broke rule number one. The tiny logical part of his brain tells him that it’s not his fault, it was the Separatist’s for blowing up the shuttle and driving them away, but it gets drowned in the wave of thoughts and jumbled emotions that encompass the rest. 

His brothers offer comforting words, soft and quiet. They sit and guard and comfort him as he breaks down. Light touches on his back and shins and side paired with whispers and reassurances and somehow refutes to the thoughts racing through his mind. They get it, too, he realizes. They just had the luxury of finding out a lot sooner.

They sit with him until he exhausts himself. Even then, they make no haste to go anywhere. 

He missed this, having his batchers by his side. Even with Echo still alive, this is something he hasn’t been able to experience since the Citadel. Since Rishi, if he wanted to be more literal about it. A silver lining in it all. Slowly but surely, they help Fives put himself back together.

Domino Squad and 99, months later, watch as Rex and the Bad Batch find Echo. They get to watch Echo fight and struggle and work his way back to some semblance of normal. The last Domino standing stays strong, just like they expect him to. Soon enough, he’ll be comfortable with his prosthetics and the Bad Batch and all the new variables in his life, they discuss with 99.

But it doesn’t come. Something much more sinister takes the place of the expected normal. All Fives can do is grip onto Hevy, Cutup, Droidbait, and watch as his twin lives to fight another day and wait.

And wait.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Idiot Back  
> 2\. Brother Back  
> 3\. Private (military rank), can also be used literally as "little soldier" (plural) Back  
> 4\. Older brother Back  
> 5\. Dear brother Back  
> 6\. Di'kutla: useless, stupid, worthless; Shabla: screwed up (impolite); Kyr'am: Death Back  
> 7\. Coward (worst possible insult) Back  
> 8\. Kaminoan Back
> 
> Feel free to yell at me below or on my tumblr @lifeofclonewars


End file.
